It's Only Love
by rushmore
Summary: Will Darcy doesn't believe in love. Then he meets Lizzie Bennet. Suddenly, everything seems different. "You know, the nice ones just tell you they aren't interested. See you around, Draco."
1. Mercy Mercy Me, Draco

**And now for something completely different...**

**So I've had massive writer's block for _Reasons Why _lately, and this just sort of came to me while I was listening to the Beatles' song 'It's Only Love,' I highly recommend it. Comments and thoughts are extremely welcome, please don't hold back but also please review, lovelies. **

**Note: if you've come here looking for something funny or zany, I highly recommend my own epic, _Reasons Why. _Not that I'm doing any cross-promotion or anything...**

**Hope y'all enjoy!  
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Will Darcy doesn't believe in love.

He knows it doesn't exist because he saw his parents divorce when he was eight- the grunted answers at the dinner table, the sneering accusations and the arguments that kept getting louder and louder until finally, one day, they told him.

Actually a letter typed by his father's secretary told him, but who really wants to go into details, anyway?

* * *

When Will gets caught in a rainstorm, he looks at the sky as if to say, "Why did you do that?"

See, Will has this theory about life, that if you just ask why things happen and go about everything very reasonably, then your life will be fine.

Yeah, Will knows it's full of shit, too.

Still- he thinks it's a nice idea. He'd like things to be simple, and even though he doesn't admit it or even acknowledge it, he knows that when he goes to Pottery Barn and drowns himself in leather sofas and wicker baskets and brown cabinets, he's being a hypocrite.

* * *

He's learned over the years that girls, just like locks on a door, are interchangeable, and that there is no single person in the world who could make him happy. He's not a loner, per say, with a trench coat and a penchant for Morrissey (although he does like the Smiths) but the only person who really gets Will Darcy is Will Darcy. Even Charlie Bingley, his best friend, partner in crime (only on April Fool's Day) and all around great guy, doesn't understand him sometime.

Every Sunday, Will and Charlie meet up at the coffee shop near Charlie's work and "talk it out like good bras," as Charlie puts it. Will is always torn between the desire to laugh or cry whenever he hears Charlie's Jamaican accent.

"God, Will. Sometimes I think you're a moron," Charlie tells him after hearing Will's latest date-and-dump story.

Will laughs quickly and looks down at his cup of coffee, pretending like he's not hurt by the comment.

"I mean, this is what, the 6th girl you've dated in the past month?" Charlie continues, oblivious to Will's discomfort. "That's a pathetic accomplishment, even for you, and you've had your fair share of pathetic accomplishments."

"Thanks."

"Anytime." Charlie grins quickly and falls silent. Will doesn't want to say anything; changing the subject from pathetic accomplishments to the hot girl at the gym just seems desperate. Although he does need to get her number. He makes a mental note to do that the next time he goes, and the sound of Charlie snorting interrupts him.

"What?" Will asks, watching in amusement as Charlie chuckles loudly.

He picks up a napkin and takes out a pen from his pocket (yes, Charlie wore pocket protectors when he was in middle school) and writes something on it Will can't see. He slides the napkin across the table towards Will and gets out of his seat, heading for the café exit.

The napkin reads,

_Making mental notes about girls=a loser_

_I'm out_

_-Bing_

Will crumples the napkin in his fist and then realizes the picture he makes: a guy in a coffee shop, drinking a latte, writing notes to himself on a napkin. All alone.

'The bastard,' Will thinks.

And then the check comes, and Will curses out loud this time.

* * *

Will meets her at that stupid, stupid Christmas party.

Charles Bingley is just the kind of guy who, upon moving into a brand new apartment, throws a Christmas party to meet his new neighbors, all of whom show up.

Will stands on the edge of the room, watching everyone over his glass of wine as they talk loudly, and the sounds bounce off of the ceiling. Someone is playing the piano, and it makes him think of the church where they had Georgiana's funeral, and suddenly he feels like he can't breathe.

When you see your younger sister die at age 16, you see the world differently. And when said younger sister was Georgiana Darcy and if you're Will Darcy, your world is turned upside down.

He'd loved Georgie (never Georgiana, too formal and stuffy for a girl so alive) enormously and she'd seemed like one of the few people he could actually talk to.

They had their own way of communicating, their mom used to say, and Will would laugh it off and ruffle Georgie's hair. He wasn't superstitious then.

On the day of the accident, he swore that he felt like someone was sticking a knife in his back. And then, a few seconds later, he'd gotten a text, a fucking _text. _His parents couldn't even extend themselves to call him.

_G is dying._

_Come to Mercy Hospital._

He'd gotten there too late; she'd already died. Will remembered walking into the hospital and how it had felt just so small and _ugly _and when he'd seen Georgie, all broken and bleeding and no way to fix her, he'd felt like strangling the doctor.

And that name, _Mercy Hospital, _was just too damn ironic. They say to pray for mercy for your loved ones but Will prayed and prayed and prayed but no one takes mercy on a sixteen year old girl who is walking across a sidewalk one minute and then gets hit the next minute and dies before her brother can say goodbye.

* * *

Now, the room is too small, too full of happy people who don't know anything, anything at all. He quickly passes Charlie and ignores him as Charlie's head pops up and watches him, a concerned frown forming. The pretty blonde beside him asks, "Is everything alright?" and he turns back to her and lies, saying "Yeah, everything's fine."

Will makes it to the terrace just in time; his stomach loses the clenched feeling when he starts to cry, and he doesn't _care _anymore that he's a 28-year-old man crying over his dead sister at his friend's Christmas party, where people just don't do those things.

The irony of his circumstance doesn't go unnoticed by him. Damn that Ivy League education. He's outside, crying, on a fucking _terrace _during a Christmas party. He looks at the tile and notices it's black. It makes him think of how he still wears black on Sundays. When Amy, girlfriend #4 of the month, made a joke about him being Gothic, he broke up with her on the spot. Charlie told him later that it was a good thing Amy was girl, because if he had said that to Will, Will would've "punched the shit out of me."

Gradually his tears fade, and all that is left is the pinched, formal face that he wears for funerals, work, and strangers.

If you let them catch them when you're feeling vulnerable, you're a dead man: the Will Darcy Code of Honor.

And it is that pinched, formal face that Elizabeth Bennet sees when she stumbles out on the terrace.

"Sorry! I just needed some air," she explains as she leans down to adjust the strap on her shoe.

Will just looks at her, slowly taking in the tousled, brunette hair, the blue dress_, _and her eyes, which are so bright and look like they could see his soul. Dimly it hits him that the reason why she stands out to him is because it's been too long since he's seen someone who looks so _alive_.

Oh god. He's already waxing eloquent about this girl. Charlie's face pops in his head and he can just see Charlie with a calculator, saying, "Now let's see. She's got all the instant attraction things that you go for, meaning that you'll be a bastard to her just because she somehow matches up with the physical traits of your perfect woman. This means it'll take you, oh, about a minute or two to repulse her. Good job, Will."

Will tells the Charlie in his head to shut up, and then he notices that Blue Dress Girl is smirking at him. She hasn't even touched her messed-up hair yet, and somehow this endears her to him a little bit more.

"I'm Lizzie, by the way," she offers. "Lizzie Bennet." Will sees that the smirk is still there, so he just nods his head in acknowledgement. He feels a little trapped in his body, like the real Will Darcy is watching the fake Will Darcy go through the motions, and then he thinks that he's seen It's a Wonderful Life too many times.

She doesn't seem deterred by his cold greeting; rather, she moves closer to him and looks down at the street below. "God this view is amazing. I mean, you can actually _see _the stars- I'm so jealous of Charlie for having this place!"

_Charlie. _She called him Charlie and she hadn't even known the bastard for five minutes.

He doesn't know whether this fact increases or decreases his attraction for her.

The smirk is _still _there as she asks, "So you got a name or what?"

Will's jaw drops. No one's ever talked to him like. Correction- no _girl _has ever talked to him like that. Ever.

He takes a little too long to respond, and Lizzie smiles regretfully at him as she walks away and says over her shoulder, "You know, the nice ones just tell you they aren't interested. See you around, Draco."

* * *

"_Draco? _Who the hell _says _that and what the hell does it mean?" Will roars desperately at Charlie the next morning over the phone before work. He's pacing his office (corner office, thank you very much) and tugging at his tie, oblivious to the adoring looks he's receiving from Louisa, his co-worker.

Charlie chuckles- 'Like a drunken female,' Will thinks viciously- and says, "Will, Willy, Willy boy. King Darcy. Lord Fitzwilliam. The Man in the Moon, the loverboy, the coolest cat on the-"

"Shut the fuck up or I swear to God that'll I kick you in the balls," Will hisses at him.

Charlie laughs more loudly. "Cool it, Clouseu. You know that scrawny boy with the lightning bolt scar and way more millions than you'll ever make?"

Will's arch nemesis is Harry Potter, even though he'll never admit it unless he's had 6 bottles of vodka. Charlie discovered that fact on Will's 21st birthday, and had the presence of mind to tape it.

It is now a popular fixture on YouTube.

Will scratches the back of his neck and sighs. "Harry Potter."

"Oh God you got over that. I thought you never would." Will glares darkly at the painting of flowers. "Anyway, you know in Harry Potter that snotty, stuck up, rich kid who goes around torturing other people?"

"What about him?" Will wonders where this conversation is going.

"That's Draco."

* * *

For the next two weeks, Will walks around with Lizzie Bennet stuck in his head. When he's eating, she appears in his head and mocks his food choices. "What are you on, the South Beach Diet?" she asks him when he reaches for an apple.

Will can't believe that this girl is in his _head. _He doesn't know how the Charlie in his head feels about this invasion, and he almost makes a mental note to ask him before he remembers that it's all in his head.

When he's at work and sees a glimpse of blue, he follows the blue and is always surprised to discover it's just his co-workers. It's a good thing that he didn't change into the Draco costume he'd bought in the Scholastic store, or else it would have been embarrassing.

He doesn't really mind when he falls asleep dreaming about her.

* * *

**Thoughts? Opinions?**

**Here's my little explanation for the story:**

**1) I have only Jane and Lizzie here, as the sole Bennet representatives. I feel like this is really Will's show, and I wanted to give him an opportunity to explain his social awkwardness. Let's here it for the boy! And I did change the initial meet between the two because I wanted to change the tables- what if Darcy _had _been attracted to her initially, and had been too paralyzed to say anything? However, this is why Jane Austen's book is a classic and mine is locked in my head.**

**2) I felt like if Charlie had seen Will go through something like he did with Georgie, he'd take on the teasing elderly brother role. Now, that just me, so please please please give feedback.**

**3) I plan on this being a short story, only around 3 or 4 chapters. **

**4) Yes, yes, yes. I love the Smiths. And the song 'Still Ill' kind of reminded me of my Will. A little bittersweet, melancholy, yet still hopeful that maybe there will be that one good thing that can save him, even though he claims to be a cynic. :)**

**Review and I shall love thee forever and dub thee King Charlie of the Nickname-est Valley.**


	2. Real Men Wear Pink

**Author's Note:**

**I had the hardest time writing this chapter- sorry about the delay, hope y'all like it! **

**So many thanks to everyone who reviewed it. You guys rock, you know that?**

**Keep 'em coming!**

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All the best friends can just tell how their friends are feeling. Like when Will was in love with Audrey Hepburn for a week, Charlie put up with the fake Gregory Peck accents and even volunteered to buy him an eyebrow plucker and the book "50 Classic Actresses For Pretentious Straight Males to Like."

Will ignored him for five straight days after that incident.

And now, Charlie could tell that Will was pining, or doing his own twisted version of pining, or, as he liked to call it, "constipation."

So Charlie, being a man of action and romance, met Will at the bookstore on 15th street on Thursday and set out to kick his butt and get him to ask out this woman.

Luckily for him, Will was thinking that he should do the same thing too.

"Yo, Darcy!" Charlie yells at him as he enters the bookstore. Will screams- a deep, manly scream, in his opinion- and turns around and glares at Charlie.

"You're in a _bookstore, _so it's like a library, which means that normal people try to talk _quietly. _Try to at least pretend that you went there once when we were in college," he snaps irritably. Charlie just shrugs his shoulders and leans against the wall, hands in pocket.

"You know, if you were a girl, I'd totally say that you were PMS-ing right now," he comments, picking at his fingers.

"Why do girls even _date_ you?"

He flashes a brilliant smile. "Easy: good looks, charm, affability, and that je ne sais quois, mon frère."

"Charlie. You took _Spanish._" Will reminds him, and he shrugs again, smiling even more broadly.

"Yeah, but Jane thinks it's sexy when I speak in French," he replies.

Will resists the attempt to roll his eyes at the mention of Charlie's latest girlfriend, Jane, the blonde he saw at the party. Only Charlie could pick up a girl at a Christmas party.

The image of Lizzie pops in his head and Will tries to tell himself that he's not jealous of Charlie and his insane Christmas-party-flirtation-relationship Jedi Mind tricks.

"Will? You there?" Charlie waves his hand in front of face and he shakes himself, trying to knock the image of Lizzie out of his head.

"Yeah, yeah. Look, I have a question, that's kind of, embarrassing," Will whispers quietly to him, hoping that Charlie will pick up on his subtly.

"No, Will. I will _not _tell you how babies are made in _public! _Quick, let's go back to my place and I'll show you!"

Will scowls at him. "You have the maturity of four-year-old, you know that, right?"

"Hey, it's better than you." Charlie crosses his arms and looks out the window, a hint of a frown on his face.

Will knows that he deserves that one, so he lets it pass and continues, "Okay fine. But I really do have to ask you something."

"Shoot."

He doesn't really know where to start, so he just blurts out in a rush, "?"

Charlie raises his eyebrows at Will, clearly struggling to control his desire to laugh. "Sorry Will, I caught _none _of that. Repetez, s'il vous plait? Wait- how did I sound?"

"Like you had a stick up your ass."

Charlie breathes a sigh of relief. "Excellent. Jane'll be so proud."

"Back to my life, please?" Will interjects the impending- Jane is so great, where has she been all my life?- soliloquy sure to come and starts again, "So at your party, I met this girl."

The frown on Charlie's face returns; he says quickly, "I've been meaning to talk to you about that. What reminded you of it? The piano?"

Will acts like he didn't hear Charlie. "And this girl was kinda my type-"

"By which you mean she scored a 10 out of 10 on the Will Darcy Scale of Perfection-"

"Shut up. She called me 'Draco'-"

Charlie snaps his fingers in triumph and releases a "Yes!"

"And I don't know, it just, something clicked, and I kinda wanted…I kinda wanted…to know…if you had her, um, her number," Will lets the words escape his mouth and regrets them the minute they enter reality.

To his surprise, though, instead of mocking him or making another awkward sex joke, Charlie nods seriously, takes out his phone, and asks, "You got pen and paper?"

Will is still in shock and can't answer; he's still ready for some stealth-bomb Playboy reference when Charlie rolls his eyes and mutters, "God, nobody likes kicking it old school anymore."

Will snorts in amusement. "Who _says _that, anyway?"

"Kathy Griffin."

Because Charlie didn't mock him, Will decides he's gonna keep quiet, too.

He takes out his cellphone and squints at Charlie's contacts list.

_Allison Aimes_

_Rodger Bates_

_Jane Bennet_

_Lizzie Bennet_

"Oh, that's strange. Lizzie and Jane have the same last name. Weird." Will comments as he punches Lizzie's number into his phone.

"Wait for it…" Charlie mutters under his breath, and a couple of seconds, Will comes in, right on cue, with a "What the fuck? They're _related?_"

* * *

The next day, Will is still hung up about Charlie's Jane being related to Lizzie. It's like his mind is stuck in replay, and he keeps asking Charlie, "Are you _sure?_"to which Charlie, being the charming man he is, says, "Your head's still stuck in your ass."

For the next couple of days, all of their conversations go like this:

_Will paces the room while Charlie leans casually against a wall: _This world is too fucking _small._

_Charlie: _That's kinda why they have that song, Will.

_Will glares at him: _No shit, Bingley.

_Charlie shrugs his shoulders is if to say, 'Not my fault,' and Will continues: _I mean, God! Sometimes I just think people are trying to screw with me. Maybe it's for my money? Oh God they're after my money.

_Charlie: _Paranoid android _freak._

_Will: _What?

_Charlie: _Nothing, bumpkins.

_Will: _Shut it, Hawaiian Fruit Punch.

On days after these conversations, Charlie always muses to himself that Will is really, honest to God, one fucked up individual.

Which is exactly why he decides to invite the Bennet sisters over for dinner.

Without telling Will.

* * *

Lizzie and Jane arrive on time, right at 7:00, and Charlie grins widely at them when they arrive; he wraps his arms around Jane's waist and says, "Hi."

"Hi," she grins back at him, and Lizzie quickly goes into the kitchen to avoid a 20-minute conversation that consists only of "Hi."

Unfortunately, Will is also in the kitchen, morosely contemplating a box of granola and his lack of luck with one Lizzie Bennet. He turns around and promptly drops the granola box.

"_Shit." _

"Well that's not what I'm usually called, but hello to you, too," Lizzie smiles faintly at him and crosses her arm, and Will can tell she's angry at him. Or maybe just annoyed. He really hopes she's just annoyed.

"Nice pajamas."

"Thanks," Will replies, smiling crookedly down at the pink pajama bottoms he's currently sporting.

She walks further into the kitchen, a little bit closer to him, and tilts her head. "I've heard only real men wear pink. So what the hell are _you _doing in it?"

_She doesn't know. _She doesn't know, and still Will suddenly wants to punch the smirk off her face. _She doesn't know. _

He laughs but it sounds off, even to him, and he quickly leaves the kitchen, hoping that his face doesn't look as fucked up as he feels.

"You _invited _them?" Will hisses at Charlie angrily, having pulled him apart from Jane and thrust her in Lizzie's direction.

Charlie runs a hand through his hair, clearly confused. "I thought you wanted to ask Lizzie out, so I just decided to speed the process up a little bit. Why? What's wrong?"

Every single time someone asks Will what's wrong, he feels a little bit more lonely and defeated.

"You…she…Georgie…pants."

Charlie blanches. "Oh God Will. You-"

"I am."

Charlie sighs. "_Please _tell me you didn't bite her head off. She doesn't know; it's not her fault, Will."

Will knows that but he still thinks she holds grudges better than anyone he's ever met.

"Will," Charlie says quietly, "if you want something with Lizzie, something _real, _you'll have to tell her. She's not the person in that cab, Will."

Charlie walks away, leaving Will all alone in the dark.

* * *

The double date- if you could call it that- wasn't entirely a disaster, as Will rejoined the group and Lizzie spilled coffee all over the carpet, to which Will only said, "I always thought something was off in the apartment," instead of rolling his eyes or pouring detergent all over it.

"Lizzie? Please redecorate all the rooms in my apartment," he teases her, and she flashes a smile at him.

"Pay me first."

Will laughs at her boldness and replies, "Only in quarters."

Charlie snorts. "Great comeback, Will."

Sometimes he needs more supportive friends.

Will rolls his eyes at him and flops back against the couch. Lizzie joins him and turns her head, a wicked glint in her eyes, towards Charlie. "Hey Charlie? What was that videotape you were talking about earlier, the one of Will's 21st birthday?"

Jane nods eagerly and says, "Yeah, the Harry Potter one."

Will sits upright quickly. "_No." _

"Why not, Will? What, you've got dirty secrets?" Lizzie grins at him, tucking a strand of hair back, and Will suddenly aches to touch her.

Oh God. He's no better that a high schooler.

"Too many for you, Bennet."

She smacks his shoulder and Jane laughs uproariously; Charlie looks on fondly as he heads toward the TV console.

"What year did we make it, Will?" He asks suddenly, his back to the group, and Will, stupid Will, replies, "Um….4 years ago? I think?"

"You don't remember your 21st birthday?" Lizzie asks him incredulously, and the constricted feeling in Will's stomach comes back. He nods stiffly and clenches the drink in his hand.

"The years kind of…blurred together," he says vaguely, and Lizzie looks at him, really _looks _at him, and he worries that she's seen something in his face that'll bring her closer to the truth.

He wants her to know and yet he doesn't want her to know; he wants to be able to lash out at one person for the accident but he doesn't want it to be Lizzie but he just feels so -

"Okay! Here it is!" Charlie interrupts Will's thoughts and presses play on the remote. "I present to you, William Darcy's 21st birthday."

Will rolls his eyes again and Lizzie smiles at him, and he's struck again by that desire to reach out and hold her, and it scares him. Charlie sits next to Jane and threads his hand through hers, and that simple gesture makes them both look so happy.

"Oh, God," he proclaims as the video begins, with a close-up of a very, very drunk Will.

Charlie's narrating it, and Video Charlie whispers to the camera, "And now, for the first time, we have _Drunk Will."_

"You made it sound like I was one of those wrestlers," Real Will protests as he watches Video Will stumble off the stool.

Video Will smiles sloppily at the camera and pushes himself onto his feet; Lizzie tells Real Will, "Hey. That's impressive!"

Now, Video Charlie asks the drunk Will, "So how do you feel about our fine friend, Harry Potter?"

Real Will moans; Lizzie smiles and pats his hand.

The Will in the video seems to lose all composure as he spits out furiously, "Harry Potter. _The Chosen One. _What the hell is _that _all about, huh? 'The _Chosen _One?' Like what? He was fucking _chosen_ to save the whole god-damned world? Aw hell to the no."

Lizzie loses it and falls onto the floor laughing. Will wishes that she would go back to holding his hand.

Video Will continues, "I mean, honestly? Please. Let's get real: the only reason Potter is even _popular _is because he's a hero, and girls can't resists a hero. Like if I jumped off a fucking _bridge _to save fucking _Cher, _I would be loved. I would be loved, man!" Video Will slams his fist down on the bar and screams "_Fuck!" _

Now Charlie's on the floor laughing, too, and Jane shoots Real Will a sweet look.

Suddenly, Video Will reaches his arms towards someone beyond the camera, someone's who laughing, and says, "God, Georgie, if I ever do that, you'll love me, right?"

Will feels like he can't breathe anymore; Charlie stops laughing and freezes as they watch Georgie walk into the frame, and without thinking, Will pushes himself off the couch and crouches close to the TV.

"_Georgie," _he whispers slowly.

Georgie in the video reaches the drunk Will and smiles at him, laughing at his attempts to stand, and she says, "Yes, Will, even if you push yourself off a bridge to save Cher, I'll love you. Hell, I love you now, you stupid bastard," and laughing, she kisses him on the head.

The Will in the video grins at her and says proudly to the camera, "Hear that, Potter? My girl loves me. So suck it, bastard!" and the camera zooms in on a shot of Georgie dumping water on Will's head, and then the screen goes black.

Like a man stuck in a trance, Will rips the plug out of the set and suddenly he punches the wall.

"God, Georgie, why'd you have to do it? God, any other fucking crosswalk, and-" but Will can't bear to finish that thought.

He doesn't hear Jane and Lizzie leaving; he doesn't hear Lizzie arguing furiously with Jane, doesn't hear Charlie talking, doesn't even hear the sound of himself crying.

All he can see is Georgie, coming towards him, smiling, reaching out to play with his hair, and then he sees a car speeding towards her, and her air-borne body, bruised and broken and then the casket, finally closed shut, finally buried in the Earth.

"Oh,_ Georgie,_" he mumbles brokenly as he stares down at the pink pajama pants she bought for him on his 21st birthday, and then he's gone.

* * *

**Just to clarify: Charlie didn't remember that Georgie was in the video, and Will has a vague feeling (read: clenched stomach) but only remembers when he sees her in it. **

**Comments, questions, the full shebang are always welcome, so please review!**


	3. Lost at Sea

**Better late than never?**

**I have to say, I love Charlie Bingley.**

* * *

_I know, _

_I know you tried to change things,_

_I know,_

_I know you tried to change_

_-metric_

Time passes. Will forgets to shave and Charlie forgets to hide his concern and somewhere in the world, another girl gets struck walking between a crosswalk and nobody gets to say good-bye.

Time passes, and people move on.

Or, you know, they don't.

It's like a coin toss: one situation, two outcomes, and always the same, nagging "What if?" What if this isn't really what I am supposed to do? And oh _God, _what if it is?

So it's with this in mind that Will Darcy has spent the past two months of his life thinking about one Lizzie Bennet, formerly of suburban California and now a proud fish in the fishbowl of New York City.

Will never learned to swim, and yet all he can come up with are swimming metaphors.

"She's swimming, and I'm drowning," he mutters to himself one morning.

"She's swimming, and I'm drowning." He tells Charlie.

"She's fucking swimming, and I'm _drowning."_

"Why does she get to do that?"

And so on, repeat, for two months.

One day, after a particularly gruesome session involving a bottle of vodka and John Hughes movies ("Fuck her, I mean, I never even found her attractive or anything, and I certainly didn't think that when she smiles, it's like the whole world gets quiet and easier to manage and better or anything.")

Charlie, ever the cheerleader, says:

"Will? Do everyone a favor and shut the fuck up?"

When Will refuses to, Charlie goes out and buys him a dog muzzle.

"Funny," Will snaps. Charlie snaps the muzzle at him, and Will starts bleeding.

"Thank _God_," Charlie breathes as Will starts flinging newspaper at him, "This is the first sign of life I've seen, in, like, _months_."

Will stops mid-fling and corrects him. "Two months, 14 days, and 6 hours."

They both say nothing and just stare at each other. Will knows he's let too much slip and Charlie's thinking that it's good his boy is back.

"Welcome back," he tells Will.

* * *

The next day, Charlie drags Will to go see a movie with him and Jane ("It's such a casual thing, and really, she doesn't even _look _like Lizzie!" "Fuck you.")

Will stands in line behind them and wishes they weren't so in love.

_Charlie, beaming, his arms wrapped around her waist: _Jesus. It's one of those pretentious French dramas about nude people, isn't it?

_Jane: _You're just embarrassed that we're seeing it for the third time, at your request.

_Charlie kisses her and tries to hide a smile: _Princess and the Frog is _art_, darling.

_Jane kisses him again and laughs: _Babycakes, you're blushing!

_Will: _Georgie used to love Bambi.

Charlie's face whitens, and the laughter disappears from his face.

Jane turns to him, Charlie's arms still wrapped firmly around her waist, and says, "Will, I'm sorry about your sister."

Charlie's arms tighten a little bit and he looks at Will with a pleading look in his eyes, the one that says _I didn't put her up to this, she's a good person, please, Will. For me._

But he makes the mistake of looking at Jane's eyes and she's just looking at him very earnestly, so he manages to get out, "Thanks," before he has to run.

He runs from the movie theater and from the realization that Jane's eyes, while a pretty shade of green, aren't brown ones that make you want to drown in them.

He gets to the subway and hides himself between two strangers on a bench, and suddenly he starts crying, because he was thinking about Lizzie, and not Georgie, and because he's a terrible, terrible, brother.

* * *

Meanwhile, Lizzie Bennet dreams of a broken man with sad eyes and pink pajama pants, and how she cut right into him and didn't even care.

She does now, and she's scared as hell, for herself but also for him, because how can you help someone heal when you poured acid on his wounds not too long ago?

* * *

"Good to see you back, Will. It's been a while." Drew, the guard at the cemetery gate, smiles at him when he sees Will's armfuls of flowers, all yellow and blooming and _alive._

"Yeah, it has," Will murmurs, and his heart breaks a little bit more at this admission.

He walks the path to Georgie's grave slowly. Charlie would say that he's punishing himself for not visiting sooner by walking among the graves of other people, but Charlie's not here right now, so Will tells the Charlie in his head to shut up.

And then, he sees her. Lying in the same spot, only there are weeds growing up around her, threatening to cover up the inscription.

_Georgiana Darcy_

_We love you and we know you're safe,_

_But we miss you, and since you're the Ginny to my Ron,_

_Things just won't be the same._

He wrote the inscription; his parents were already back at work, and couldn't be bothered to care. At least, that's how he saw it. When he'd put in the part about Ginny and Ron, he'd started laughing, and then he'd started crying, and pretty soon, he had forgotten to breathe. Charlie found him passed out on his floor, and drove him to the hospital. The doctor told Charlie that, "His system is in a state of shock. Has anything out of the ordinary happened lately?"

"Yeah, his kid sister fucking _died _on him and he didn't get to say goodbye because of one your dumbass colleagues. But I guess that's normal to you, huh Doc?"

Charlie Bingley is a good guy, and one hell of a protector. It's a good thing he's in Will's corner.

Now, Will throws the flowers down and runs towards her, screaming, "Fuck off! Fuck off you bastards!" at the weeds as he tears them out and flings them far away from her. "FUCK OFF!" He smoothes down the grass around her grave and whispers, "Georgie, I am so, so, so fucking sorry, god I'm sorry, I am such a fuck-up, I'm sorry, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you; I'm sorry, oh god, I'm so sorry."

He kisses her grave and picks up the flowers and arranges them around her, like a blanket, like he used to do when they were younger, when they were together.

This is what normal used to be for Will, a Sunday spent with Georgie in the cemetery, and then he met Lizzie, and Sunday with Georgie just became Sunday.

He doesn't know how to love Georgie and keep holding on to her but also to let go and live his life as Will Darcy, the older brother with a dead younger sister. He's only ever been Will Darcy, older brother to Georgiana, whom he'd walk over hot coals for.

"I met this girl, Gee. She's…I dunno, but she's not perfect, I mean, she really pisses me off and she made fun of the pants you got me and then I wanted to punch her but Jesus I want to hold her, sometimes, just hold her, you know? God you probably think I'm crazy. 'Don't punch girls, Will, don't punch them!' I know, I know." Will breaks off and rearranges a flower.

"It's just, I get this feeling when I'm around her, like right in the pit of my stomach, and it's a dull burn, and it's just _something. _Like I can't pinpoint it and I've never really talked to her and it's not just lust or attraction. It's just _something, _and I feel like I might fuck up something really important if I don't try. But she doesn't know you, Gee, and she doesn't get it. God, she doesn't get it at all."

Will falls into silence and watches the sun go down.

_On your __**dreams, **_the Charlie in his head jokes dramatically, and Will yells at him to go fly a kite.

* * *

The next day, Charlie comes over and says flatly, "So you visited Georgie again."

Will groans inwardly. "Yeah, what about it?"

Charlie hesitates and then continues, "Drew said you were there for 8 hours."

"I lost track of time." Will reaches for the coffee maker and pours himself a cup. Out of the corner of his eye, he feels Charlie watching him.

"I'll say."

And just like that, Will explodes. "_You _don't visit her, _you _don't feel guilty every time you see a cab, _you _don't see her broken body every time you fall asleep, _you _don't tear out the weeds around her, _you _don't go to bars and think about the last time that you heard her laugh, _you _don-"

Tears are streaming down Charlie's face, and Will suddenly remembers all the times that Charlie picked up Georgie from school because he couldn't be there, and how Charlie would always order extra kung po chicken for Georgie even though he hated it and she never ate enough of it, leaving him with heaps of leftovers, and that Charlie had been the one at the hospital first.

"You're right, Will, I _don't _do those things. I get out and live my fucking life because that's what Georgie would have wanted. And I gotta honor that, you know?" Charlie says quietly but firmly. "Will, you're my best friend, but I loved Georgie, too. I miss her everyday, and you can't say that I didn't love her. Cause I did, Will, a whole fucking lot."

"So what do we do now?" Will blurts out.

Charlie walks towards him and hugs him, and his tears seep into Will's shirt, and Will feels even more ashamed.

"You call Lizzie, and you tell her everything. Start from the beginning or the end or the middle but start somewhere." Charlie claps him on the back and smiles.

"Hey, you might even surprise yourself. Maybe she's a nerd, too."

* * *

**Okay so a couple things:**

**1) This chapter is probably the saddest chapter out of the whole story, but it was necessary for Will to grow, in the cruelest way possible**

**2) More Lizzie/Will interactions are coming**

**And review like you always do- reviews are the Disney movies for the soul. Even though I've always been more of a Pixar girl myself but still.**


	4. Inhale, Exhale

_We will not be put off the final goal_  
_ We have it hidden in us to attain,_  
_ Not though we have to seize earth by the pole_

_ And, tired of aimless circling in one place,_  
_ Steer straight off after something into space._

- Robert Frost, _On a Tree Fallen Across the Road_

_

* * *

_

The first time he heard Georgie play the piano, he remembers that everything slowed down, and the sunlight streaming in just faded and it was so _quiet, _so wonderfully _quiet. _Her playing filled the halls and his empty heart and softened the world's sharp edges. It was so beautiful that he couldn't imagine it ever being taken away.

That would just have been _too _cruel. The world could take away his everything, but God help them if they took away the sound of Georgie playing.

And then, they'd done it. The very thing that Will had told himself that they wouldn't do, they did.

They took her playing and they took her, and Will didn't know where to find them.

He looked in all the usual places, and then he looked in the unusual ones, and then he looked again, and again, and then when he couldn't find them, he fell asleep on his couch and vowed to never love anything as much as he had loved Georgie.

He didn't commit suicide after she died, but his heart did.

* * *

"Will! Hey, Will!" Someone, Will doesn't know who, shouts at him after he leaves work. He turns around and frowns. It's Leanne, his coworker. She loves him.

Will pretends to not hear her. He starts walking faster, maintaining a casual pace of someone who's busy, but still alert.

He hears her footsteps coming closer, and then he starts running.

"Will! Will! Will! Will!" She shouts, over and over, and he keeps on running, but she's getting so close. How is she getting so close? He's running; she shouldn't be this close.

Her hand grabs his arm, and he screams. It's not Leanne's hand, but one of a corpse.

The corpse smiles at him and says, "Still scared?"

"Will! Hey, Will!" He screams again and his eyes fly open; Charlie is standing above him, a glass of water in his hand. By the feel of it, he's already drenched Will.

Charlie kneels down, like he does when he's around little kids, and he doesn't say anything for a moment. He just looks at Will, and then he says, very quietly, "The same one, wasn't it?"

Will sits up and takes the glass of water from Charlie. He drinks it and avoids Charlie's gaze.

"Yeah, except it was a corpse instead of Georgie."

In his head, he dares Charlie to say that Georgie had become the corpse, but when he finally looks back at him, he feels even worse.

Charlie has tears in his eyes. "Oh. Okay."

He tells Will that Jane had left something in the apartment, so they came up to get it, and then they heard Will screaming, so Charlie came in to check on him.

Will can't bring himself to crack a joke about how paternal they are now, and suddenly he asks, "Jane was here?"

"Jane _is _here."

He jumps at the sound of Jane entering the room. She walks over to Charlie, and says, "How's our boy doing?"

"He's fine," Charlie lies. "Just too much spicy food from Hunan City."

She clucks her tongue and Will is reminded even more of a mother hen.

"You're lying, Charlie."

She looks over at him and Will stares back at her, wondering if she knows more than she lets it on.

Jane nods her head ever so slightly before she turns back to Charlie. "Too much ice cream, I think."

Charlie laughs awkwardly, and then the sinking feeling comes back into Will's stomach, as he sits drenched in a dark bedroom and realizes that Jane Bennet probably knows everything.

He wonders if her sister knows everything, too.

* * *

He walks the streets around his apartment and tries to find a sign that'll tell him how to move.

He doesn't find any, but he does trip over a crack. The skin tears, and a little blood slips out, and he walks back to his apartment with blood on his face.

He's been through so much, he thinks, and he wishes that for once, something would just work out on its own.

And it'd be easy, painless really, to pretend like everything was okay and that he didn't picture his sister dying and he didn't fall asleep hearing her scream and that he wasn't absolutely _terrified _of telling Lizzie Bennet that he loves her and that he thought he was starting to go through the motions again.

But whenever he starts to let his grip fade, and he starts floating again, ignoring reality, he remembers Charlie's tears seeping into his shirt, and a lump forms in his throat and he has to remind himself to breathe.

One, two.

_Inhale._

_(_A week passes by; someone smashes a carved pumpkin and the jagged face haunts him.)

Three, four.

_Exhale._

(He's stopped searching for Draco costumes.)

Five, six.

_Inhale._

("Will, are you-" "I'm fine.")

Seven, eight.

_Exhale._

_(_It's already November.)

Nine, ten.

_Inhale._

(He's sitting in Central Park, watching the birds circle again and again and again and again and again and again and again-)

"Will?"

_Holy motherfucking shit._

"Lizzie?"

The figure in the green coat turns to him, and another lump forms in his throat as he watches Lizzie Bennet draw her coat closer to her and walk over to him, making sure not to step on any of the cracks in the sidewalk.

Her hair is pulled back into a loose bun, and she's not wearing any makeup, and he's never seen anything more beautiful.

They're standing awkwardly next to each other now. Neither one is looking at the other one; they're both staring straight ahead and watching as the snow falls.

Will wishes that he hadn't remembered her.

"So, Will-" She pauses to tuck a dark curl behind her ear, and that same aching desire to touch her flares up in his body again. "Um, how have you been?"

It's a terrible question to ask, and she looks up at him (she _has _to; he's at least 6'2" and she's only 5'7"). At that moment, she looks like a little girl.

Will stretches his arm and scratches his neck. "Fine."

"Oh, that's good, I guess. I bought a cat!"

"A cat?"

She nods nervously, and starts talking rapidly. "Yeah, a cat. Seamus. I mean, that's what I named him. They hadn't named him at the pound, and I thought- hey, _Seamus, _what a great name for a cat. He has back problems. Apparently. Guess what? I got promoted!" Will barely has time for a strangled _Really? That's great! _before she continues, "Yeah, I'm now officially an editor. It's pretty great, although it's like shit sometimes- in the best way possible, I mean. Not like I don't _want _to be an editor! I do! But it's like I'm killing dreams, you know? I- oh, _fuck."_

Startled, Will looks quickly at her. "What?"

"I can't do small talk; I can't do _this-" _She gestures to the space between them. "God, it's so fucking _awkward. _I can't believe I started talking about my _cat, _that's just-"

"Lizzie, it's _fine." _He smiles at her gently, and she looks up at him with worried eyes.

"Are you sure? Because I can pull a Houdini and leave right now, if that helps-"

"_Lizzie."_

Her shoulders slump. "Sorry."

And just like that, Will's back stiffens, and he remembers that he _shouldn't _find the fact that she named her cat Seamus adorable, and that he _shouldn't _want to hold her, and that really, he should turn his back and walk away, because she had been such a bitch to him and- oh _God- _Georgie.

"_Don't."_

"-Will-"

"No, Lizzie. Who the _hell _do you think you are, thinking that you can show up two and a half months later and talk about your cat and everything will be all right? I _know _that you have so much that you want to say. Go ahead, _let it all out." _

Her head snaps back up to him and her eyes fill with bitterness, an ugly bitterness that Will knows so well. His resolve weakens a little, and the Charlie in his head yells at him to get his shit together and apologize.

But this time, it's different. It has to come from her, and she knows it and he knows it and she is so scared of messing the moment up that she stays frozen in space, her eyes locked in his.

"Just fucking _say it _to me, godamnit!" Will yells, ignoring the fact that she looks like he just slapped her.

"No, Will, I won't, because I don't like standing here and not knowing-"

"Georgie died because a cab hit her and I couldn't save her," Will screams in her face, and she looks terrified. He moves closer to her and repeats, "I couldn't save her. I couldn't fucking save her, and don't you even fucking _are _try to pretend like you know how that feels, because you don't. You don't, Lizzie, and you are so godamn lucky not to."

"Will, I'm-"

"What? You're sorry?" Will laughs, and it sounds so bitter. "That's not good enough. Don't just _be _sorry. _Prove _it. Show me how the fuck you can possibly be _sorry_ for me."

He knows that he's setting her up to fail and she knows it too, and suddenly_ she_ wants to slap him, because it's just not fair.

And she doesn't even know why she says it, but suddenly the words are wrenched from her mouth.

"It's not fucking _fair,_ Will."

He wants to throttle her, but he doesn't look away. He bores into her and forces himself to think of Georgie, reaching for him. This doesn't have the intended outcome: instead of causing Lizzie to talk, it causes Georgie to wander lazily into his head.

He stops breathing for a moment and closes his eyes. Close your eyes, shut off the world, close your eyes, shut off the world, stop breathing stop stop stop stop _stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop_

"_Jesus, Will- you and your bitter, bitter heart. I'm not her and she's not me and the world is a good place; Will, the world is a good place, if only you will believe in it." Georgie smiles wistfully at him, and tucks a wisp of blond hair behind her ear. _

Will knows that he is going crazy, like actually crazy, but he doesn't care. If this is insanity, he'll take it.

_And then, Georgie drifts away, and in his head, she's walking past the cars and the cars aren't hitting her and then she's flying, and she turns her head back to Will and winks at him once, then twice, and says something he can't quite hear. _

"Will? Will? Are you okay?"

It's Lizzie's voice, calling out to him above the noise in his head.

And suddenly, he starts laughing. He hasn't laughed this hard in years. He's laughing and laughing and the tears are coming now, and it's bittersweet and salty and terrible and wonderful and he remembers to keep breathing.

She's saving him. He's not drowning anymore. She's saving him, he's not out alone in the sea by himself, she's fucking _saving _him.

"Will! Shit, I had something I wanted to say!" She yells at him, her eyes narrowed.

He can't stop laughing.

But somehow, he does.

"What?"

She shifts her feet, looking like a child who's been caught lying. Raising her eyes to him, she says quietly, "It's not fucking fair because no one, not even you, can prove that they're really sorry. I know that whatever I do, you will push me away and say, 'No, that's not right.' So what do you want me to do, Will? I broke your heart once already, because I'm not _the cab driver_."

He doesn't know whether to kiss her or run away.

The Charlie in his head smirks and says, "How sexual!" That doesn't even make sense, Will tells him, and then he realizes that all the stuff in his head might be a bad sign.

Somehow, he knows it's not.

And then Lizzie steps closer to him and says, "I'm sorry. I'm really fucking sorry, not just about me being a bitch but also about your sister. No one deserves that, and especially not you. God, Will, you're one of the good guys, you know? And good guys, they don't deserve this- they really don't. And I don't….shit, I dunno even if what I'm saying is-"

She swallows nervously, and instead of continuing, offers her hand out to Will.

"Lizzie Bennet."

He looks down at the palm of her hand, and he notices that it's shaking a little.

Will pauses, and she stiffens, her eyes wide.

And that's when he realizes that she's scared too.

So he meets her hand and whispers, "Will Darcy," and they stay like that, hands locked together, for a long time.

Then, later, as they walk down the sidewalk, the cars pass by them quickly, and their bodies become blurs in the world as they slowly make their way back home.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

What's a month between friends? (Or two...)

This chapter did not want to be written. I wrote each section in fragments, and I tried to force them together. Want to know something funny? I've already written the epilogue _and _an explanation behind my reasoning for **It's Only Love. **Seriously. I am that pathetic. But chapter four? Hell no. This chapter might just be my sweetest downfall.

And yes, I am shamelessly borrowing a lyric from Regina Spektor in my Author's Note.

As always, feedback/comments/dance tips are welcome, and I just want to say that for all of you who have stuck with me, I am eternally grateful. Your support means so much.

And in that vein: only one chapter left! It has snake hats! Orange juice! Excitement! Snow!


	5. Sometimes

_It's only love,_

_And that is all._

_But it's so hard,_

_loving you._

It's Only Love, by the Beatles

* * *

When the four of them- Will, Lizzie, Charlie and Jane- get together for Thanksgiving, Jane drinks too much wine and starts singing Billie Holiday songs. Charlie plays the piano and Will cries. Lizzie holds his hand, and sings softly along with Jane. The sound of their voices and Charlie's playing fills the apartment, and he feels safe.

* * *

They're walking down street one day; Lizzie's holding Will's hand, and she's staring out at the cars passing as Will talks.

"I mean, I don't know. Sometimes I really like Italian, but tonight, I could really go for Korean. Oh, there's this new Greek place in Brooklyn, I heard it was good. But I just don't know," he finishes earnestly.

It feels odd to talk to the back of Lizzie's neck.

"Lizzie?" He tries again, hoping to get her attention.

She turns around suddenly. "Will, don't push me."

Confused, he looks down at their intertwined hands and the space between their bodies. "I didn't," he says slowly.

She shakes her head. "No, Will. Don't _push _me," and then Will gets it.

Will eats cereal out of the box that night.

* * *

Sometimes he and Lizzie fight about the stupidest things, like who drank the last bit of orange juice or who left the door unlocked.

Sometimes he wins. Sometimes she wins. One time they both stormed out of the apartment, and Lizzie almost tripped down the winding stairs. Will ran, terrified, and grabbed her. Once he knew she was safe, he kissed her and whispered fiercely, "I love you."

It was the first time he'd ever said it to a girl who wasn't his sister.

Lizzie whispered back, "I love you more."

Will smiled sadly.

"Impossible."

After he says this, he worries that she's going to be hit by a car, too, because that sort of thing happens to the people he admits to loving, and so for a week he refuses to let her walk anywhere without him or Charlie.

When she doesn't get hit, he worries a little bit less. And when she falls asleep, Will whispers, "I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you _I love you_," and the clocks don't stop and the walls don't crumble and the sky stays blue, and so he doesn't stop saying, "I love you."

* * *

Lizzie works at a publishing company that's 40 blocks from where Will works. He walked there one day, and has regretted it ever since. Lizzie kept his sweat-stained suit as a reminder of his "epic labor of love." It stinks up their apartment, and Seamus the Cat has torn up all of its legs, but it will never be thrown out.

* * *

Periodically, Charlie drags Will out to Borders and forces him to read children's books. Will stands there and glares as Charlie enthusiastically tries on various hats and animal scarves. The kids in the store adore him.

After five months of this new tradition, they have almost finished reading Green Eggs and Ham.

* * *

Lizzie and Charlie get along fantastically, and Will sometimes hangs back and lets them do their thing. He talks to Jane, and he finds that he likes her a lot more than he thought he would. She's kind, and sometimes he sees Georgie in her face. He liked Jane even more because when he told her this, she looked like she was about to cry, and replied softly, "I'm _truly_ honored, Will."

It's been a while since Will realized that he loves her like a sister.

* * *

At Christmas, Lizzie buys Will the collector's edition of Harry Potter, all seven books. Will buys her a telescope, so that she can see the stars. She's stunned, amazed really, that he remembered that she wanted to be an astronaut when she was four. He grins sheepishly and pulls her into his lap.

When Lizzie falls asleep that night, he pulls out the first Harry Potter book and reads all of it.

To his surprise, he finds that despite all of Potter's flaws, he is a likeable eleven-year-old.

Still, Draco is clearly superior.

* * *

It's January, and snow starts to fall in earnest. Charlie dashes into their apartment and finds Will. He's beaming, and he throws his arms around Will.

"Don't tell me- new shipment of stuffed snakes over at Border's?"

Charlie shakes his head and- if it's possible- beams even more widely.

"Even better!"

Will rubs his chin.

"Jane finally convinced you to stop prancing around like an ass every time you speak French?"

Charlie hoots gleefully and leaps over to the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of orange juice. He downs it in one gulp and proclaims, "_Wrong- _we're getting married!"

It takes all of one millisecond before Will is leaping and hooting too, and Charlie is pouring another glass of orange juice and they're both grinning ecstatically.

"You _bastard, _holding out on me like-"

"It was total impulse, no idea-"

"You probably were perfect, you prick-"

"-and then I accidentally tripped her-"

"Jesus, where's the _actual _champagne?"

"-and I was all tangled up in the sheets-"

"Bad time for a sex joke? Oh God, what have you done to me?"

"-and then I just said 'Fuck it' and asked her-"

"We are so girls right now."

"Shut up and bask in my glory. _Damn_ I'm gonna puke. Bathroom?"

"_Hurry."_

And so this is how Lizzie finds them, passed out in the bathroom, clutching a bottle of orange juice and talking about weddings.

* * *

Will is best man, and Lizzie is maid of honor. Will stands with Charlie and watches Lizzie walk down the aisle. She winks at him and he grins back, and he suddenly wishes that this were their wedding, not Charlie and Jane's. He wonders if she thinks that too.

She does, but she decides not to bring it up. _Too much pressure,_ she thinks.

So Charlie and Jane get married and Lizzie cries and Will makes a terrible sex joke in the middle of his best man speech and Charlie steps on Jane's feet and it's one of those things that is so awful it's beautiful, and when Charlie and Jane walk away, there is not a single person who doesn't already miss them.

On the train ride back, Lizzie leans her head on Will's shoulder, and they both talk about Harry Potter, and dumplings, and anything not related to the wedding.

Later that night, when Lizzie is snoring lightly, Will decides that Lizzie Bennet is the only person in the world for him.

He doesn't know how to say this, so he makes double chocolate-chip pancakes for breakfast and lets her drink all of the hot chocolate instead.

* * *

Will signs up for swim lessons, and when he graduates from the beginner's class, Lizzie makes him a diploma and hangs it in their kitchen.

He is now a volunteer lifeguard.

* * *

The first time the new Mr. and Mrs. Charles Bingley come over for dinner, Lizzie and Will both worry that they're too immature and that they don't have matching plates or joint incomes. But then Charlie brings Tropicana orange juice instead of wine, and it's perfect. Charlie even brings one his snake scarves, and he (and Will) perform Green Eggs and Ham. Mr. Snake takes a starring role as Ham, and Lizzie coughs up her orange juice because she can't cry.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she says when Jane asks her what's the matter. Will hears her, and during the encore performance (an abridged version of the Lorax), he looks over at Lizzie and beams at her, and she falls in love with him all over again.

* * *

Will still visits Georgie; sometimes Lizzie comes with him, sometimes she doesn't. The weeds still crop up, and Will still tears them out, and his heart still aches every time he sees her. He thinks of all the things she's missing, and all the things he wished she had told him, like why she liked oranges but not apples, or why she loved him.

"I love Lizzie Bennet," he tells her one day. "I love her so much, but you're mine, kid. You're always going to be mine. God, Georgie- they better be treating you good, wherever you are…because if they aren't, I swear to fucking God that I'm gonna-"

But all the threats that he comes up with aren't good enough. So he heads home, and spends the entire night reading about the Mafia.

He still hasn't found a good enough threat; he knows that he never will.

* * *

"Do you ever think that we'll have what they have?" Lizzie asks him one day, nodding to the elderly couple seated not too far away. They're walking in Central Park; Will's arm around Lizzie's shoulder, her arm around his waist, and it's a cold, gray day.

Without even thinking, Will nods confidently and says, "We'll have what they have, and what's more, we'll have it in fucking _buckets_."

It's not the most romantic or articulate thing to say, but Lizzie laughs and buries her head in his coat, and at that moment, Will realizes that he's happy, and he forgets to worry.

And that's when the universe decides to do something.

* * *

Without warning, the inevitable happens, as it so often does, and gravity and chance and Lizzie Bennet collide on 47th Street. She was walking across the crosswalk and talking to someone on her cell phone, and smiling.

And then a taxi slammed into her, just like it had done to Georgiana Darcy a lifetime ago.

Will is in a meeting when it happens.

"No, _Davidson, _I don't give a fuck about whether or not the masthead is blue or black! Get over yourself!" He spits out at his colleague and rubs his forehead. Sighing, he continues, "I didn't mean it to come out like that, I just-"

His phone rings. Without thinking about it, he seizes it and answers.

"Hello?"

"Hello, can you hear me? Yes? Are you Will Darcy? Sir- sir, I'm not a telemarketer- there's been an accident. With Lizzie Bennet. She's at Mercy Hospital."

Somewhere in another lifetime, a girl strapped to a gurney misses her brother.

* * *

Will breaks a good 26 traffic laws driving to Mercy Hospital, and when he asks for Lizzie, the nurse looks at him and smiles.

"Oh, you're Will Darcy?"

He nods. Beneath his coat pocket, his hands are shaking.

The nurse looks like his mother, if she'd known how to smile and had actually cared about anything. His hands curl into fists. _This is not happening. _

"Where's Lizzie?" He asks desperately. Around him, the room blurs into a mess of colors. "Where- is she okay? I need to know if she's okay, okay? Do you understand that? I need- I need to know."

The nurse pauses, and then sighs and glances at Lizzie's file. "She's still in critical condition. But we have excellent medical care here at Mercy, so there's no need to worry-"

"WHERE THE HELL IS MY SISTER!"

Will turns at the noise and sees Jane and Charlie running towards him; Jane has her jaw set.

When Will looks at Charlie, he sees the ghosts in Charlie's eyes. They glance at each other, and another lifetime flashes before them.

"Which one just yelled?" The nurse asks, clearly confused.

"I did," Charlie glares at her.

"She's my sister, and his sister-in-law." Jane glares at her too.

Somewhere in another lifetime, a girl takes her last breath. Time of death: 11: 43 a.m. Too much blood loss too quickly, and too young for this.

* * *

In the waiting area, Will stares as the clock moves.

2: 41.

(The needle on the clock moves slowly.)

2: 42.

(Charlie's holding a toy snake miserably.)

2: 43.

(It's different this time.)

2: 44.

_(Please, not again- I'll do anything.)_

"How long as she been in there?" Will's voice, sore from use, cracks in protest.

Jane looks at the clock and takes a long breath. "About an hour."

"I fucking hate this hospital," Charlie mutters, and drops his head to his knees.

Will doesn't reply.

They all want to say something, but there's nothing to say, and so they sit in silence and watch as the clock moves against its will. Five minutes pass, then 10, then 15. Doctors pass in and out, glancing at the small waiting party with the toy snake.

Then a doctor walks out and almost passes them by, until he does a double take and walks over.

"Hello, are you the family of Lizzie Bennet? Well then, I'm glad to report that Lizzie is in stable condition, and-"

That was as far as he could get before the three of them leapt up and hugged him, snake and all.

"Thank you, _thank you-_"

"You are the _greatest little motherfucker ever-_"

"She's okay. _She's okay_."

The doctors tells them that Lizzie was lucky, "extremely lucky"- here he looks around at all of them as if to impress upon them this idea- and that she has sustained several injuries; namely, a broken arm and a cracked rib, and it's alright, Mr. Darcy, _she's alright- _the bones are set and fixed now.

The doctor turns to leave, and then Will blurts out, "How did you find us?"

"She told me to look for a stuffed animal," the doctor smiles at them. "A snake, if at all possible."

Charlie beams at him.

Somewhere in another lifetime, a man sits in a waiting room with a stuffed elephant ("Excellent choice, Mr. Bingley!") and hears that Georgiana Darcy is about to die, and would he like to come and say goodbye?

* * *

They all go into Lizzie's room at once, deciding that since they are all family, they all have the right to go in.

_Oh God._

She's sitting in the bed, and Will sees the bruises and the stitches and the casts- _oh God, the __**casts- **_and he has to remind himself that she's actually okay.

Jane sits in the chair closet to Lizzie and holds the one hand that's not covered in gauze. She traces the bruises lightly and whispers in a voice that only Lizzie can hear, "Oh, _Lizzie."_

Charlie takes a different approach. He tosses Mr. Snake onto the bed, crosses his arms, and demands gruffly, "Well, what do you have to say for yourself, Bennet?"

"Fuck _you, _Bingley, and I appreciate the snake very much."

Charlie laughs delightedly and a couple tears fall out. "I- I didn't want this to- this _sucks."_

She nods at him, and says, "Tell me about it. No sex for three months."

"That's my little sister!" He laughs loudly again, and Jane is crying and laughing.

Will's hands start shaking again. _Georgie- same room- not the same room- not whole, bleeding onto the sheets- not in a cast- they don't put dead people in casts, what's the point- so pale- not Georgie, not Georgie, not Georgie- she's aright. _

Her eyes find his.

"Will, I'm sorry."

He has to swallow before he can smile at her and say, "You idiot, it doesn't matter- it doesn't _mean _anything- I love you, you know that, right?"

"I know it. I love you."

She's say all of this urgently, as if she's afraid that he doesn't understand.

"Things just happen," he tells her, "things just happen."

Somewhere in another lifetime, a man is too late.

A simple matter of timing, that's all it (life) ever is.

* * *

"I don't know what I did to make you love me," Will confesses to Lizzie's sleeping form. She's still in the hospital; it's been two days since the accident. He draws patterns on her blanket: stars and lines and squiggly, uneven smiley faces. "I don't know how I fell in love with you." He laughs and then sighs. "It just happened."

"I know," Lizzie murmurs, her eyes opening slightly.

"You're awake?"

She rolls her eyes and nods.

"_Damn, _I was trying to keep quiet," Will says.

She smiles gently at him and replies, "Things just keep happening, don't they?"

It's his turn to nod.

Lizzie sighs and blinks her eyes at the ceiling. "Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I hadn't come to that party, or if I hadn't needed to get outside, or if a million other things hadn't happened. Then what would be happening right now?"

Will says gravely, "I don't know, Lizzie."

"I don't want to lose you," she whispers, looking terrified. "I _can't _lose you."

"Ssh, it's alright," he says, "I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise?"

He whispers, "I promise."

"Well, it's only love, right?" she says, one hand tracing over Will's imaginary stars on her blanket.

"Go to sleep, Lizzie."

"Answer me."

"Go to sleep."

"Fuck you."

"I love you. So much."

"Love you more."

"Well, it's only love after all!"

"_Fuck you_."

* * *

It's a funny way to die, in a hospital. It's rather ironic, actually. People do it everyday.

Plugs get ripped out of sockets, and hearts get tired. Sometimes they just don't have a chance. Georgiana Darcy, age 18, death by car accident, 11:43 a.m. And sometimes, they do. "Mr. Darcy, _she's alright."_

But perhaps it's fitting that Will Darcy finds his way back to the surface in a darkened room, watching Lizzie Bennet sleep. The bruises are still there, and the casts are still there, and the machines are still there, and so is he.

Standing watch over her, he wonders what love really is. It's not anything tangible, not something that can be fixed at an exact quantity, "_That'll be $5. 50 please!"_- oh no. It's not that.

But he's got a lifetime to figure it out. And for once, he's okay with that.

Things will happen. Things will happen. They will, and he'll be okay.

Sometimes, it doesn't hurt to believe. Sometimes, it's the only thing you can do.

In another lifetime, Will watches his sister become buried in the dust, and the lid closes and the dirt pours over and the minister drowns on and on and somehow misses the point: _Georgie loved to be alive._

In this lifetime, which is a strange and beautiful one, he's no longer drowning.

He's wide-awake; he's breathing, and he's _alive. _

And really, Will muses later as he drives Lizzie back home, it's not such a bad thing after all. In fact, it's rather wonderful.

Somewhere above (or maybe it's below), Georgiana Darcy smiles.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

When I first started this story, I had no idea that it would have turned out like this. At first I just wanted something about Will, and then Georgie died, and then it evolved into what it is now, which is hopefully something that you, the readers, love just as much as I love this story.

_Please, _if you have any questions/comments/advice/thoughts/dance tips, review. Reviews are the ice to my cream. Seriously. I don't want to beg, but...

I do have a short piece which is just my thoughts about It's Only Love, it's characters, how they got to the place they are in the story, etc. I might post it if there's enough interest- so if you'd like to read it, just put that in your review or PM or whatever. If there's enough common interest, I'll post it!

For all of you have stuck with me and this story and Will and Lizzie: you have my heartfelt thanks.


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